


Really, An Assassin?

by Trystyian



Category: Assassin's Creed, Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-12
Updated: 2013-09-12
Packaged: 2017-12-26 09:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trystyian/pseuds/Trystyian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a frustration short that will probably never turn into anything unless people really want it.  Bruce throws a fundraiser and things go awry.  No sex sorry guys it was too long already...if enough of you request it I will write it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Really, An Assassin?

“Bruce.  Bruce!”  The reporters were relentless as the thin dark suited man walked down the aisle that was cordoned off just for this event.  He waved his right hand at the crowd as he walked into the building that was hosting the latest charity event for the Wayne foundation.  He waved one more time before going inside relief crossing his face as Alfred walked up to relieve him of his overcoat.  “Are they all here?”  The butler nodded and Bruce walked away his upper lip twitching in annoyance.  Another speech he didn’t write, didn’t want to give lay ahead. 

The music was a subtle solo piano as Bruce mingled through the crowd shaking the right hands, whispering the right words.  He made his way to the head of the room, it was informal so there was no podium, and only one hundred attended as this was a small party.  Bruce smiled as he eyed the man at the baby grand for silence.  “Good evening ladies and gentlemen.  I am not going to say much because we all know why we are here, but I will say thank you for being here and spending the time here with me and the kids the Wayne foundation sponsors.”  His long fingers reached for a plain tall glass of uniced water taking one drink before he continued.  “Please enjoy.”  The applause filled the ballroom they were in and the chattering conversations resumed as the all the lights went out.

“What?”

“Why aren't the backups on?”  Bruce shimmied through the crowd looking for Alfred as he nodded to his butler and slipped into the wall.  The door was that concealed that even someone watching him go through would have a tough time locating it or opening it.

The lights came back on as Bruce rode in the elevator to the bottom of the building.  The secondary was not kicking in but the power was back on and he wondered now if he had panicked until he heard the screams of his guests.  Transforming himself into his alter ego didn’t take long as he was peeling the formal suit off him as the elevator finished its descent.  Dashing into the body armor and cape that were his trademark outfit of the night he ran back into the elevator, the ride back up too slow as the power went out again.

“Batman…”  One of the guests was just as shocked by the caped man’s appearance as the power going out again and the men in black scattered about the room.  Bruce didn’t recognize any of them or what they might represent.

“Well, well, look who shows up to crash the party.”  The man’s sinister voice echoed in the marbled room. 

“Who are you?”  Alfred was doing his work in the background as the camera systems scanned the faces of the armed strangers.  The masked man was no taller than Batman as he circled his prey, the blue eyes cold as he sized up the caped man like a piece of mere meat.

“No one you know.”  This was true, as the computer was not recognizing them at all.  “Nor will you.”  The man had already drawn his Uzi and was taking aim at the people behind Batman.  The terrorist reached with his hand and covered Batman’s face with a saturated cloth.  He had no chance to resist the chemicals that saturated the cloth.  The bullets bounced off the marble walls with a random grace as the leader was dragging the now unconscious form across the room towards the elevator where his cohort was waiting with the doors open.

The cohorts in the main room were slowly escaping out the windows now knowing their lives were their own as the ‘boss’ had the one he wanted so easily.  The elevator doors closed out the screaming chaos that now emanated from the bloodied ballroom.  Batman heard none of it as he sagged to the floor slumping to one side as his breathing slowed.

“We have the package, have the car ready.”  He had no accent at all; his voice was so flat as he spoke into the radio.

He closed his eyes for a moment.  That moment would cost him his life before the elevator reached the next floor.  The silenced .45 was loud in the closed elevator but no one would hear it but the now dead man and his dead companion.  The male figure was hanging from the ceiling and now descending to the floor to check the condition of the only other man who was alive in the car.

“Shit.”  The accent was odd and not from one region.  The thin man dressed in simple black knelt next to Batman worry creasing his golden eyes.  He dug in one of the pouches around his waist and pulled out an 18-gauge syringe that was pre-filled.  Given the body armor the other wore, the only place to stick it was the man’s exposed neck.  The assassin did just that, hoping he was soon enough.  “Breathe damn you.” 

Batman shuddered as the needle left a bruise in his neck but he didn’t regain consciousness as the strange man stopped the elevator between floors.  He was listening to the chaos around him knowing the rest would be looking for Batman, but where to take him?  An idea bloomed in his mind and shown on his face as the dark eyes opened, staring but thinking this man was his captor he tried to reach for the knife he knew he was armed with to take this man down.  The assassin shook his head for silence.  “I am here to save you.”  He showed Batman the gun and the bullets in the other two men, the shots were perfect, professional for sure. 

The awe came into the glassy, drug infused eyes.  “Who…”  His voice was but a croak as the man scooped him up over his shoulder fireman style and started the elevator again. 

“No one you know, yet.”  The words definitely had an odd accent to them and the cadence was weird but only to a trained ear.  The puddle of blood left behind worried the golden-eyed man as the doors opened to the four terrorists waiting for their “package.”  The man in black took them out with five shots the one trying to dive for them both causing a misfire that obviously annoyed the dark haired man who wore a weird hood over his head.

Altaïr ran across the courtyard and dove into the limousine’s back door setting Batman on the seat carefully so he could peel the body armor away to assess the damage.  “Drive asshole without looking in the mirror!”  He was kneeling on the floor of the car blocking the driver’s view as he pulled the hood from his head.  His pale skin hadn’t been shaved in a couple days but he didn’t look a day over twenty-five the scar that marred the right side of his mouth moving as he looked over the bleeding wound the other man had.

“Who are you?”  The antidote was working and the full lips twisted into a smirk at the clearer words from the thin lips the other possessed. 

“The man who saved your life.”  Bruce could not pick up on the accent still, which was annoying him as the other’s fingers were sewing his wound.  “Fortieth and Newton, now damn I could walk faster.”  The driver was a middle-aged man working a second job and he had no idea what his cargo was other than some Arabic asshole with a patience problem.

“Seriously.”  Bruce’s eyes were losing their glassiness as the blood stayed in his body now the stitches taking effect as Altaïr deftly tied the knot.  The strange man was pulling off his own clothes another layer underneath that looked more fashionable with the skinny jeans and light colored polo shirt he wore with the buttons open.  He ran his long fingers through that dark wavy mop of hair on his head before setting his golden eyes on Batman again.

“Do I get to see you without your mask?”  The assassin hadn’t thought about taking it off, it was not his choice and he respected the hidden identity the other man kept.

Shaking fingers reached up the blood now drying on them as he pulled the mask off his face to reveal to this stranger with the odd eyes who he really was.  The assassin could only stare openly; the man was a legend with and without the mask, how did this happen to him.

“Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad, assassin extraordinaire and occasional lifesaver, the pleasure is all mine Mr. Wayne.”  The young man turned on the driver as the car rounded a corner too harshly for his taste but they were there.  Bruce could only nod as he scanned his brain for where he had heard that name before or how he could not have noticed him with those strange eyes and the lithe way he moved as he turned his gaze back to Bruce.

“Where are we going?”  The reality was sinking in again as the car stopped completely now. 

“My place.”  The assassin scooped up the mask and the man pulling the cape over him to keep him from view.  The building they were parked in front of looked modest but the assassin didn’t walk into the front door, he chose the steps down that led to the basement and the elevator that sounded like it would die any second before it stopped.  He moved the cape off Bruce’s body so he could see as he set him on the bed.  “Don’t move too much.”

“Yeah.”  The pain of moving mixed with the dizziness from the antidote was marring his vision as he watched the man move about the room with ease.  He was peeling the rest of his weapons off and he kicked off his shoes to a corner.  The bed was huge in the room but it was not crowded at all.  “Where’s the bathroom?”  There were too many doors to try to figure it out.  “I don’t want to bloody your bed.”

Altaïr chuckled as he walked over to where Bruce sat.  “We will do that in a moment.  I want to make sure the antidote is truly working.  He poked at the older man’s arm with a small needle the blood sample tiny as he took the two steps back to the desk where the opened the laptop and was moving the mouse over the large screen.  A minute later, he turned back to the tired man on the bed.  “Very well this looks good, seems I got it in you at the perfect time.”  He helped the millionaire undress before standing him up and taking him to the shower.  “You want help?”  The innocence on his face was nothing of what was in his eyes or in his churning mind.

“No.”  Bruce closed the door lightly and started the water, there was anything a man needed for a shave and shower in the bathroom including a dark fluffy robe that had no markings on it at all.  He thought this rather odd but the kid was a distraction in himself with those weird eyes, the way he walked was a drink and he was trying to imagine what he would look like without the jeans or the shirt on.  “Shit.”  He stepped under the hot water trying to think about what needed to be done but damn those eyes kept staring at him and Bruce could only shower faster and didn’t bother to try to shave.  The blood flowed into the drain but the kid had done a damn good job with the stitches so the pain was minimal.

“Altaïr.”  He whispered it, hoping he hadn’t ruined it as he shut the water off and tossed the robe over his shoulders keeping the towel on his head as he opened the door.  Altaïr was sitting on the bed with a book between his fingers and first aid supplies in a small pile against the white comforter. 

“There you are.”  He slipped off the bed in one move grabbing the first aid supplies in one hand and turning the bed down with the other.  “Here, you need rest and I will let you be to sleep as long as you need.”  Bruce sat on the bed hard studying the lightly bronzed features of the man before him.  Attachments weren’t allowed but this kid knew who he was and probably had the same problem given what he was.

“I won’t stay long.  I am sure you have things to do.”  Altaïr dressed the stitches after Bruce laid down a pleased look on his face as the wound was closing already and didn’t show any signs of anything bad.

“Your choice and I will drive you where you might need to go.”  This was said as if the assassin didn’t trust anyone else to do it.  He stood over Bruce for a moment before covering him like a child and dimming the natural light that was coming in the windows. 

“I’ll be in the other room if you need something.”  Altaïr turned to go but Bruce had already worked his hand from under the blankets to grab the kid’s wrist.

“Don’t, go.”  The pleading, pained look in the other man’s eyes went right into the assassin’s growing interest.  Altaïr pulled the chair across to flop into it without Bruce having to let go of him.

“Why?  You don’t know a thing about me.”  The confusion marred the young face as he relaxed in the chair closing his eyes the fatigue was showing now as he looked at Bruce again.

“Because you look beat, because you saved my life, because you aren’t going to kick me out in two hours, because you’re cute, because you…”  Altaïr’s face turned smug but only for a moment.

“Well.  The real reason finally emerges.”  The assassin reached over to move the mess of Bruce’s hair from his face.  He stood though, and walked away from the bed into the door that Bruce knew was the bathroom.  He relaxed when he heard the shower running and he moved the bedding around so the young man would have a place to fall when he came out.  Altaïr took a bit but wasn’t more than half an hour as he was hoping Bruce would be sleeping since he didn’t understand why the man wanted him around.  It was known publicly how much he adored the fairer sex.

Bruce was laying there quietly but was not asleep when the assassin emerged in just boxers and a towel over his head.  The millionaire could only drop his jaw, at the gorgeous, sculpted form before him.  Damn what was the kid shy about and why did he hide that.  He couldn’t say anything as Altaïr came over to the bed his tired body more than ready for sleep as he pushed more buttons on a remote on the nightstand and darkened the room mostly so they could sleep.

“I am not going to ask.”

“Ask what?”  Altaïr sounded annoyed.

“Why you hide?”

“I don’t need attention.”  He lay down on his belly tossing the towel on the floor clearly not caring.  A cell phone was ringing in the room now and Bruce groaned knowing it was his.  “Where is it?”

“That’s the emergency one in the inside of the suit.”  Altaïr pulled himself out of bed and tossed the offending device next to Bruce before crawling back into bed without covering himself. 

“I’m fine Alfred, I’m not dead.”  His other hand was covering Altaïr as he eyed the scars on the kid’s back that the dim light from the phone was showing him.  “I will be home after I sleep.”  He turned the device off and tossed it on the deep piled carpet knowing it wouldn’t be damaged and turned his attention to the man laying next to him.  Perfection was rarely found in life but Bruce could swear it was laying in the bed next to him.

“Thank you.”  Bruce said it quietly as he moved closer but was not touching him just yet.

“You're welcome.”  Altaïr was already half asleep as Bruce’s lips found his neck.  He popped his head up making sure he wasn’t just that tired. 

“Don’t move.”  Bruce turned facing the younger man without crowding him as his hands worked at the stiff shoulders the assassin gave in and laid his head back on the pillows.  “When was the last time you slept kid?”

“Tuesday morning.”  Bruce’s face fell since it was now Friday.  Altaïr was melting for so many reasons under the soothing fingers the other man possessed.  The assassin fell asleep as Bruce kissed his neck again. 

“Goodnight Altaïr.”  He laid there watching the other breathe for a few minutes before dozing off himself with dreams what he wanted to do to the assassin that had saved his life.


End file.
